


Hackett's Revenge

by Sturzkampf



Category: Widdershins (Webcomic)
Genre: AU, Gen, Inspired by Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 15:09:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20084248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sturzkampf/pseuds/Sturzkampf
Summary: What if Robert Hackett didn’t come quietly?





	Hackett's Revenge

**Author's Note:**

> A small variation on ‘Hangman’s Knott’, [30th July 2019](https://widdershinscomic.com/wdshn/july-30th-2019).  
Warning! Very Significant Spoilers!

_“Oh shut up Hackett,” snarled Doctor Flack. “You were as much a part of this as me!” The police captain twisted Flack’s arm behind her back and led her away through the cheering crowd._

Mayor Robert Hackett knew the game was up. The ingrates! The ungrateful selfish swine! After all he had done for them! He’d given them the best years of his life! He’d stopped that damned Fairbairn woman undermining magic! He’d spent all that time and money defending traditional values against damned radicals like Rana! And this is how they’d repaid him! Now, all that he’d worked for, everything that decent people stood for, would be swept away in the blink of any eye!

He saw Will Sharpe still standing on the trapdoor with his hands bound and the noose around his neck, looking at him with that blasted self-satisfied smirk. ‘At least’, thought Hackett, ‘I’ll do the world a favour by taking that arrogant popinjay with me’. Before the constable standing on the scaffold could react, he lunged past him and pulled the gibbet lever to release the trapdoor.

The crowd gasped. This was turning into a far better show than any of them had anticipated. There was a click from the mechanism that released the catch – and the trapdoor hardly moved at all. For a second everyone held their breath. No-one moved. Will stood on tip toe. Then Vincent grabbed him round the waist, dragged him to safety and pulled the noose from his neck. They looked into each other’s eyes and shared a stupid grin. No sooner had the condemned man stepped from the trapdoor than it swung open wide. Hackett gaped down into the awful drop in amazement. How unfair was that?! From deep within the wooden scaffold he thought he heard something scampering away, but he could see nothing there. He was sure that the faint giggling as he was taken into custody was only his imagination.

\-------------------*

Just outside the gaol, tucked in a quiet corner away from the glare of the crowd, a scruffy figure huddled, trying to keep out of the rain enough to re-light the last of his roll-up. There was a splashing in the puddles by his feet. An imaginative man might have thought there was a small child jumping up and down in the water for the sheer joy of it, but there was nothing to be seen. Nevertheless, the man leaned forward, as though listening to a voice than none but he could hear.

“Yeah, ye did a good job.” He paused to listen. “Nah, it didn’t go like I said, but ye’re fine.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a biscuit. It was snatched out of his hand, hung in the air for a brief moment and then began to disintegrate. The crumbs never reached the ground but disappeared with a crunching gobbling sound. The man finished his roll-up and tossed the dog end into the gutter. The biscuit had vanished. He paused to listen again.

“Yeah, reckon we’re done. Let’s get outta the rain.” Jack O’Malley hunched into his coat, pulled his collar up, and slouched off down the street. Behind him something invisible danced through the puddles. A sensitive person might have imagined they heard a small but happy voice shouting ‘YAY!’


End file.
